Two Shades
by aissaa
Summary: A fresh graduate of the Shinra Military Academy is tossed into the world of Turks, and suddenly she finds herself promoted, ranking among the higher echelons of the shady organization, partnered with none other than Reno himself. NOT AN OC&RENO romance.
1. Chapter 1: Apathy

**Two Shades**  
A fresh graduate of the Shinra Military Academy is tossed into the (none too wonderful) world of Turks for about several months, and suddenly she finds herself promoted, ranking among the higher echelons of the shady organization, partnered with none other than Reno himself. (I SUCK at summaries, so I will stop here.) NOT an OC/Reno romance. Will deal with somewhat mature themes in later chapters.

* * *

**Chapter 1  
Apathy**

Toril was uncomfortable in this office, under the severe lights, the cool walls. She shifted on her seat, on the wooden bench, not even allowing herself to lean back against the wall, into anything. It all just felt too sterile, too cold.

She had been called in by Tseng earlier. 'It is of utmost importance', he had stressed. 'Report as soon as possible.' And so she had, after making sure there wasn't anything more she had forgotten to do (all rookies had their obligatory duties, hers' was to patrol Sector 7.) She exchanged shifts with another rookie, going from mid-morning to midday instead of staying on from mid-afternoon to early evening—she had forgotten his name, the one she had switched with, but his nose was unusually long and sharp at the tip, that was all she remembered.

She was sitting here, by Tseng's office. Tseng was the head of the Turks. She recalled it had been some old, tired looking man with strange dark hair back then, when she was still in military school, but it was Tseng now. Tseng had been the one who had brought her here, gotten her here in the first place.

He had approached her, right after the graduation ceremonies, five months—almost six months ago. He didn't need to introduce himself to her—she knew him, anyone who was even somewhat involved with Shinra knew him. She remembered feeling a shiver of anticipation run through her when he had stopped in front of her and asked if he could speak to her, awhile.

He said they had been watching her for quite some time now. _Quite some time?_ Apparently, they had been following her progress the moment she stepped foot into the prestigious military academy. She was eye-catching, he had said, as she had shown much potential as a military woman—she was striking, intense, quite a fighter, and intelligent as well (as shown by the pre-requisite diagnostics they had to take before they were admitted).

Toril hadn't let herself be moved by the praises. Though she did allow herself a hefty, inward pat on the back. _One_ pat on the back. It wasn't everyday she had the attentions of anyone like this, as important as he was.

She showed a lot of potential, he had said. A lot of promise…truth be told, she was too good for the Shinra army. Not quite SOLDIER material either (Toril's ego slunk a few notches lower at this comment), but still too good to be nothing but a common soldier—she'd probably make her way up to Captain in a few years, but inevitably die in some wasteland, to be forgotten. (This remark didn't do wonders for her dignity and self-respect as a person either.)

He had a proposition though, he had said carefully, maintaining steady eye contact with her the whole time. Then he had asked her.

She had been flattered, and very much honored at that time—sometimes she'd think back to that moment, and wonder if she had only said yes because of exactly that, she had been floored by the fact that HE wanted HER to join them, the Turks. The Turks had direct (well, almost direct) orders from the President of Shinra himself, they were his right-hand men, they were most possibly the second most important organization in the whole of Shinra (SOLDIER being the first.) She hadn't really thought much about it, what exactly they did—but everyone feared the Turks, and no one ever questioned the things they did, and she took that as a sign of importance. If you were important, no one ever questioned you or what you had to do, you just did it, and everyone else would just try and take it in stride.

That was five months ago, fast-forward to right now. Toril was tired, and to be honest, a bit bored. She didn't really know what she had been expecting from this, being a Turk and all (maybe heart-stopping secret missions? Near-death experiences?), but so far, she hadn't done anything more than patrol—several hours a day, different sectors of Midgar that they were afraid AVALANCHE (a rebel, environmentally-conscious group bent on bringing down Shinra and their 'evil' ways) had infiltrated, or at least, something of that sort. They were to report right away if they saw suspicious characters loitering about, et cetera, et cetera. And they were there to keep the general peace as well (the people living in the slums weren't exactly the most well-mannered of the lot in Midgar.)

The most Toril had done in her five months of patrol was to break up a drunken brawl between two middle-aged men (one had long, stringy black hair but a balding spot on the back of his head.) Otherwise, nothing really had happened to her. She wasn't so sure if it was because nothing just really ever happened anymore, or if she just had the bad luck to have the most boring shifts (another rookie, Rolfe, had the shock of his life when he was taken hostage by an AVALANCHE member, and they had threatened to blow him up with the reactor. He had the shift right after Toril's that time, in Sector 4.)

Or maybe it was because they were rookies, they got the most inane, senseless missions. Toril stifled a yawn behind her hand. She knew she would have to work her way up the ladder to ensure that her next missions would be more 'exciting', but that would take awhile. A long, long, while. She sighed, despondent. Being a Turk wasn't what it was all cut out to be, after all.

"Toril."

Toril's mind cleared of all thoughts as she moved on autopilot, standing up at attention and saluting her superior, Tseng, who had just walked into the room.

The dark haired man nodded slightly, affirmingly, and Toril stood at ease.

"Have a seat."

Toril sat back down, but rather stiffly, still not allowing herself to relax into the wall behind her. "You wanted to speak to me about something, sir?"

Tseng had sat down too, behind his desk. "Ah, yes." He leaned forward on his seat, turning his full attention towards the young woman. "How long have you been here, in my services?" he asked, rather conversationally.

Toril could not tell at all, where any of this was headed. She did a few quick calculations in her head. "About five months, give or take, sir."

"I see." Tseng nodded thoughtfully, his cool blue eyes glinting under the harsh, unforgiving lights. "You haven't been here for long, then."

Before Toril could say or react to anything, Tseng had risen to his feet, pulled out a standard-issue Shinra HB-56 shotgun (Tseng never really used a weapon, but he had that always, just in case), and aimed it directly at her head, right inbetween her eyes.

* * *

Author's notes: _HB-56 shotgun_ : don't take me seriously on that, that's half a charcoal pencil and a number that popped into my head that time (laughs) but I seriously couldn't think of anything, and I don't know, somehow a Beretta in the Final Fantasy world just sounds wrong. 

This story takes place after Before Crisis, so this would be around three to two years before the beginning of Final Fantasy VII, give or take, but not quite Last Order, It's just somewhere there. Veld isn't the head anymore of the Turks, Tseng is by now (I'm not sure what happens to Veld though), and I took the liberty of putting levels to their organization and all sorts of rules, for the sake of the plot. It's a fanfic anyway, so please bear with me.

I know it sounds funny and somewhat improbable, Toril being the wonder kid that she is and all, but hey, it's a fanfic, it's fantasy, and um, yeah. Give her time. She'll grow on you. (Well, at least I hope so.) I want to develop her characters, I don't want a flat representation of her where she's perfect and can do no wrong. That would make a Mary-Sue (and okay, it's kind of a Mary-Sue already, I'll admit) but I owe it to you guys to at least make it a nice and interesting Mary-Sue, right? The damage has been done.

Sorry for any OOC-ness. I'm still trying to get a firm grip onto their characters and personalities and all. I'm trying! This is my second fanfiction piece in around four years, and things are a bit rusty, but it's coming back to me.

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy VII, or any of their characters, they belong to Squaresoft, etc. You know the drill.


	2. Chapter 2: Promotion

**Two Shades**  
A fresh graduate of the Shinra Military Academy is tossed into the (none too wonderful) world of Turks for about several months, and suddenly she finds herself promoted, ranking among the higher echelons of the shady organization, partnered with none other than Reno himself. (I SUCK at summaries, so I will stop here.) NOT an OC/Reno romance. Will deal with somewhat mature themes in later chapters.

* * *

**Chapter 2  
Promotion**

Toril was bewildered—her eyes quickly ran along the length of the short barrel of the weapon, and her mind was operating rapidly, almost furiously. Was the safety on? It wasn't on, it was off, and she was _sure _that gun was loaded, she had heard a _click¸_ he had cocked the gun, and he was aiming it at her, his finger was pressing the trigger lightly, he was going to shoot at her—

Tseng spoke, quietly, evenly. "Rookie, think fa—"

She had never heard a word he had said, her defensive instincts had immediately, automatically kicked in, milliseconds after he had started to speak. Years of hard, grueling training did that to her. She launched into a smooth roundhouse with her left leg, the flat of her foot meeting with metal—

The gun flew across the room, out of Tseng's hand—he turned to look at the gun, taken by surprise, and turned back to look at Toril to see her counter-kick, her right foot coming, flying towards his face, ready to assault him with an ax-kick.

Tseng ducked, and slid across the floor for his gun back. Toril landed on both feet on his desk, regaining her sense of balance rather quickly, and gracefully launched herself into the air, diving for his gun as well.

He had reached for his gun first, scrambled to sit up on the floor, and aimed at Toril, who was still jumping, in mid-air. He fired—she avoided his shot by a few millimeters by twisting her body, contortioned in a way she never thought possible of herself while not on solid ground or on a soft mat of any sort—and grasped for the gun, wrenched it from his hand. She landed atop him, pinning him down onto the ground, sitting atop his torso.

She was sweaty from the action, and gasping for breath—her tie had come undone somehow, and her immaculate black-and-white suit had gotten all mussed up and unbuttoned. The blood was pumping in her ears, she could feel the adrenaline rush within her, and a voice inside her was screaming at her to GET OUT OF HERE, HE WANTS TO KILL YOU!

She stared down at Tseng for what felt like a long, long time. No words came out of her mouth, because she didn't know what to say, she didn't know what to feel—she just acted, but that was all on instinct, now that she had him, she didn't know what to do—

Tseng exhaled. He too, seemed winded from the barely two-minute scuffle. "Good work, Toril."

_What? _She didn't get off from atop him, and she didn't understand. "Excuse me, sir, 'good work'?"

He laughed, somewhat. He sounded tired. "That was a test. I wasn't really going to shoot you, I wanted to see how you'd react. You did fine, rookie." He made motions with his hand. "Now, please get off me and hand me back my gun."

It all clicked and came together inside Toril's head. _Oh._

She got up, thinking about dusting herself off but instead pushing the thought to the back of her head, choosing to give her superior a hand up instead. "I'm, I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to…" _Maybe_ she had gone a bit too far.

Tseng laughed a bit louder this time. "No offense taken rookie, that was the point of the entire thing, how you'd react." He settled back into his seat, organizing the papers that had flown about and around his desk when Toril had turned his desk into a lever of sorts into semi-neat piles. "Have a seat again, Toril."

She was still somewhat shaken up by what had just happened, and the adrenaline that was still pumping furiously throughout her didn't allow her to sit back into the bench again and relax. She also found that she was gripping the gun so tightly, her knuckles were turning white. She lowered the gun gently, almost reverently, back onto the table. "If you wouldn't mind sir, I'd like to remain standing."

Tseng nodded. "Toril, I have a somewhat unorthodox offer for you."

xx

She exited the office numbly, the thoughts in her head stumbling upon and over each other, as they were coming in so fast, she could barely keep track of any of them.

_Promotion…top-secret missions…top levels of intelligence…work with the best of the best in this organization…_

'We've noticed', Tseng had said earlier, within the confines of his room, 'that you seem frankly, quite…bored…with what you have, right now. It isn't enough for you, what you're being given to carry out, what you do, it does not challenge you.'

Toril had vehemently denied it all then, but Tseng, it was almost as if he did not even hear her. 'We have an opening. One of our agents, Hikaru—you might have heard of her?—was killed, quite suddenly, on a mission to Mideel the other week. Her absence is greatly felt, and we'll be needing someone right away, to fill in her shoes—and I will go straight to the point, you seem to be the best choice, we are confident that you will be able to achieve much in her place. You haven't been around for long, but you show extraordinary strength and skill.' He had stood up at this point. 'You are now officially one of the top-ranking agents in this organization. Congratulations—I'll send your new partner to brief you on everything you will need to know later on.'

She had thanked him profusely after that, and allowed herself to be ushered out of the office. Then she began the long walk, back towards the dormitories, mostly because she didn't really know where to go.

Toril blinked. _Partner._ She had forgotten that in the higher levels, they did not work individually anymore—they were each paired up with another agent, who was to become their partner, their other half—they were supposed to think like a unit, act as one, it made for easier missions, teamwork and all. They even roomed together—she had seen the dormitories for the higher-ups, they had two identical beds, basically everything in a single room, just doubled. And the rooms were much bigger.

She knew there were possibilities of coed partnerships, and even _they _had to share rooms. There was a rule though, against 'consorting' with the other, taking advantage of the fact that they would share one room even at night, et cetera. Romantic connections between agents were frowned upon, and it was very much a _grave_, shameful offense—it was PROHIBITED, if it happened to be your partner that you had such a relationship with. Toril had heard rumors of many a pair getting kicked out of the organization for 'abusing' the fact that they shared a room, but she had never really bothered to listen. Toril also found that rule unfair though, as it wasn't as if you could really choose who you fell in love with. But rules were rules.

She found herself wondering who her new partner was going to be. She still remembered Hikaru—she had never gotten to know her, since she was still fairly new around the place, and Toril had been a rookie, the higher-ups never really spoke to the rookies. But she knew Hikaru, faintly. She had been a tall, statuesque woman, with her long yellow hair (the color of corn silk) always in plaits. She had almond-shaped, laughing blue eyes. She had always seemed so vibrant, so happy, so, alive--she didn't seem like a Turk, not at all.

_Hikaru died? _It was only then that it sunk in, that she had passed away. _On a mission, in Mideel. _Tseng didn't go into details. Of course he didn't go into details, it was probably some top-secret deal, and she had died, in the middle of some wild gunfight. Toril felt somewhat sad, though she had never known Hikaru personally, they had never even exchanged a single word. But she liked to think she knew her. She believed that she could know people just by watching them carefully and watching.

Her thoughts floated back to her partner. She was probably going to get Hikaru's previous partner. She couldn't really, for the life of her, remember who Hikaru's previous partner was. Hikaru was such a big (she was tall and slim, but her personality was big), vivacious person that Toril guessed she just never noticed who Hikaru's partner was because she…or maybe he, yes, she was sure it had been a he, had been overshadowed by her, half the time. She'd find out soon enough, though.

She got back to her room, unlocked the door, stepped in—and started.

Lying, sprawled so very comfortably (or at least, that's how it looked to her) on her bed (immaculately made-up bed, but immaculate it was not anymore), was a long-legged, sloppy-looking, red-haired young man, also in a black-and-white suit. Toril assumed he was a Turk too, then, judging by the clothes he wore. But she couldn't understand for the life of her, why he was here, in her room, of all places, and lounging so comfortably _in her bed _like he had been here, all his life.

He was awake. His eyes shifted lazily towards her, or in her general direction, at least. "Can I help you?" he drawled out, in a most sluggish, half-asleep manner. His arms were folded behind his head.

* * *

Author's note: Yeah, Hikaru. (laughs) Again, took the liberty of adding characters. Any guesses on as to who the red-haired man is? (It should be blatantly obvious by this point.) 

I know it sounds funny and somewhat improbable, Toril being the wonder kid that she is and all, but hey, it's a fanfic, it's fantasy, and um, yeah. Give her time. She'll grow on you. (Well, at least I hope so.) I want to develop her characters, I don't want a flat representation of her where she's perfect and can do no wrong. That would make a Mary-Sue (and _okay_, it's kind of a Mary-Sue already, I'll admit) but I owe it to you guys to at _least _make it a nice and interesting Mary-Sue, right? The damage has been done.

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy VII, or any of their characters, they belong to Squaresoft, etc. You know the drill.


	3. Chapter 3: Reno

**Two Shades**  
A fresh graduate of the Shinra Military Academy is tossed into the (none too wonderful) world of Turks for about several months, and suddenly she finds herself promoted, ranking among the higher echelons of the shady organization, partnered with none other than Reno himself. (I SUCK at summaries, so I will stop here.) NOT an OC/Reno romance. Will deal with somewhat mature themes in later chapters.

* * *

**Chapter 3  
Reno**

Toril managed to recover and find her voice straightaway. "Who the _hell_ are you?"

The strange man's eyes opened. Toril noticed that they were an unusual shade of blue, and quite a contrast with his somewhat fiery, long red hair. "Oh, you're her then." He jumped up from his previously sprawled-out position, with surprising agility—and grace, for a man of his stature and build. He stretched his long arms, and yawned, rather lavishly.

"I'm sorry, I'm just tired. Tseng told me to wait for you here, and I couldn't sleep at all the other night, so I sat on the bed, and one thing led to another, next thing I knew, I was _in _the bed, and it felt so good, there's nothing like the feeling of a good—"

Toril interrupted him, rather rudely. "Who _are _you? Again?" She stared at him, eyes narrowed, all thoughts of Hikaru and promotions and partners out of her head. She couldn't really place his face, he seemed familiar, somehow but not really, but still, this entire thing was just, strange. _Tseng told you to wait for me here? _Something clicked again, in her head.

_Oh. Wait. _

Realization dawned in the man's eyes, and his mouth, his lips somehow fell into place, into a half-smirk. "Ah. I see you don't even know who your superiors are." He strode towards her, his long, strange, spiky red hair falling to just above his hips, swaying gracefully along with him. He had goggles pushed up onto his forehead, in a headband of sorts, maybe to keep his locks from falling into his face. He stopped within inches of her, and peered down, into her face. "You don't know me?"

Toril remembered now. Unkempt suit (no tie, first three buttons on his button-down white shirt unattended to), the goggles, the unmistakably long, red hair. She noted the hoop glinting in his left ear, she had never noticed that before.

"You're…you're Reno." _Reno. _She had never met him, never in person, but she'd heard of him. He was one of the best at what he did, at what they all did. He'd been around for quite some time now, and his fighting skills, they were almost legendary. As were his sloppy, troublesome ways. But at least he always got the job done.

She'd heard of him, but she'd never noticed him, because… "You…you were Hikaru's partner?"

He raised his eyebrows imperceptibly, and nodded. "_Aa_, she was my partner." He seemed pleased, now that she knew him. "And you're my partner, now."

Toril nodded, almost absently. "Okay." So _he _had been Hikaru's partner. She found herself wondering if Reno and Hikaru had been close. They had been partners, after all. Hikaru had always seemed like quite a nice person to her. She began to mull over what sort of person Reno was, if he had been friends with Hikaru, had they gotten along well…he didn't seem very much affected by the news of her death. Or maybe that was just how it was, the longer you were in the business—

"So," Reno began again, rather loudly, jolting Toril out of her thoughts and inward mulling, "You're new around here, and as far as we're concerned, we're partners, but not really. I am still your superior, since you are still very much the rookie." He looked her over quite appraisingly, circling her. "How long have you been here? And how old are you? Sixteen? Seventeen?"

Her eyes flashed, somewhat angrily, but Toril tried to control herself. She still couldn't really tell whether he was saying that to rouse her temper, or he was just being brutally honest, as most men were. She decided not to take any chances, either way. "I've been here six months. And I'm nineteen."

Reno started. "You're younger than I thought."

Toril wanted to point out that he had asked her if she was sixteen, or seventeen, several years younger than what she said she was, but she decided against it. Maybe he _had _said that to try and get a reaction out of her.

Reno went on, oblivious to his new partner's silences. "Get your things, you're moving into my room. You _do _know partners are supposed to sleep in the same room, right?" His eyes flashed mischievously. "And don't go getting any ideas about anything. You're not my type."

Toril blinked. Did he just…? "Um. Okay."

He looked at her from over his shoulder and laughed. "You don't talk much, do you?"

xx

"Wonder girl," Reno mused that night, as they walked into his still darkened room—_their _room now, Toril corrected herself inwardly. She flopped down, soiled black-and-white suit and all, onto the unfamiliar bed that night, exhausted from the sudden turn of events that day, staring blankly at the ceiling, nothing in particular running through her head.

"Top of her class, drafted in by Tseng. You've been a Turk for six months, and you're suddenly upgraded to special top-secret missions, with the big boys." His eyes glinted when he said _the big boys. _"How does _that _feel?"

She rolled her head to one side to take a look at him. He was still leaning against the doorway, looking quite bemused. He flicked the overhead lights on.

Toril sighed, unable to meet his eyes. "Tiring. It's _tiring. _And please, turn off the lights."

Reno shrugged, the slightest hint of a smirk on his face. "That's the longest thing you've said to me all day."

He turned the lights off, walked into the room, and closed the door behind him.

* * *

Author's notes: I'm so sorry, this chapter didn't really say anything much—I just felt I had to end somehow for last night, so the ending was somewhat rushed. But I'm contented with it but not really.

Okay, I'd like to get one thing straight, first of all: there will be NO romance between Reno and Toril—this story isn't about how they become partners, and don't get along at first, but then they eventually fall in love, or what. I could do that, but I won't, that's just too easy. (grins) So yeah, hang on and bear with me. (Man, I shouldn't have said that, that takes a lot of 'suspense' about the story out.)

Sorry for any OOC-ness. I'm still trying to get a firm grip onto their characters and personalities and all. I'm trying! This is my second fanfiction piece in around four years, and things are a bit rusty, but it's coming back to me.

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy VII, or any of their characters, they belong to Squaresoft, etc. You know the drill.


End file.
